to the mountains

Breakfast. The huge chocolate croissant reminds me of Magnús complaining that chocolate buns don't have enough chocolate in them. Well, he would not have anything to complain about here.
Sore throat and coughing getting worse force me to turn towards modern medicine. I get two types of red pills, for sucking and for taking in with water.
Not sure about Portuguese internet I go one hour earlier than needed to the bus station. Internet is correct. So I have time to befriend a German couple who had breakfast in the same café with me and now they comment on that. For politeness sake I let them know that I understand them. They have come to the coast for five days and go to the moutains today. The mother of the woman was in Riga during the war and she'd like to visit the Baltics.
It is not so easy to get to Alcoutim. Only the first leg to Vila Real de Santo Antonio is easy. Many trains and busses a day go there. Further only one school bus a day on weekdays. No wonder it took so long to get the Moors out of here. They didn't even have school buses back then.
Four hours to kill in Vila Real. There's a beach but beach already was. I know, neverending sandstrech. My bag is already full of seashells. Instead I opt for a museum. Asking directions in Portuguese must go well because I receive a map and directions also in Portuguese. The museum of Manuel Cabanas is free and shows history of tuna fishing on first floor. Woodgravings are on the second floor and look cool enough. Then I sit on a bench next to the river, read a book and look directly into Spain.
An old lady starts to talk to me in the bus station. From time to time she asks if I understand. No. She laughs and continues. Seems that I get an overview of her shopping list, she's 81 years old, went to Spain over the brigde and has worked 50 years with something that is connected with Tunisia and Morocco. Then the bus comes and we all board it. There are two more tourists with backpacks, one older man and one young girl. Bus gathers school children and spreads them around in villages. More and more greenery around. I remember now why I wanted to come here. My last minute's desicion to leave the hammock home was probably right though. A serious lack of trees. Bara runni og kjarr. In Alcoutim we team up with the young girl from Germany and an older lady from France coming from the castle who directs us to the hostel. Hostel is fancy, with a swimming pool. From the balcony in my room is view towards the river and Spain.
We go for dinner with Sara and talk a lot about hiking. This will be her second hike. Next she'd like to come to Estonia because we have a lot of forest. I skip commenting the subject and talk about mosquitos instead.
It is warmer up here than it was by the seaside.
My tablet that died in the morning rises from the dead.
Ilha Deserta
from Alcoutim to Balurcos, 24,5 km

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